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On Saturday, people of all ages marched and protested against gun violence.

Show me what democracy looks like.

This is what democracy looks like!

Don’t let anyone look down on you for being young. Instead, make your speech, behavior, love, faith, and purity an example for other believers.

1 Timothy 4:12 (NIV)

My hope for the future shines brighter because of “kids these days.” I confess to missing the speeches at the park downtown because I waited to leave my house until the livestreaming of the rally in Washington, D.C. had finished. I’m glad I was able to hear the incredibly moving speeches given there but wish I could have also heard our local teen leaders speaking out. There was an estimated 5,000 people who rallied and marched, and I was proud to be one of them.

My friend ~A~ and I marched this afternoon. Our city had its march on Sunday, on the one-year anniversary of the 2017 Women’s March. There were people of all ages, families spanning generations, males and females. There were strollers and walkers and wheelchairs.

Since we were lucky enough to be near the front of the parade of marchers, we were able to station ourselves near the end and take photos after we were finished marching. I was lucky enough to have such a good friend who made my sign for me; I gave her the words and she took care of the artistic part.

I didn’t march last year; I’d scheduled that day to visit our grandson. This year, we’d just seen them 2 weeks ago and it was past time for me to put my body and voice where I might be seen and heard because silence is not golden. Love trumps hate, and I choose to persistantly stand on the side of love.

It’s been ten years since I started blogging. It’s been a month since I wrote anything here. I’ve written several things in my head, of course — which is where most of my non work-related writing takes place these days — but I haven’t come here and put it down, fingers to the keyboard, tappity-tap-tap-tap.

The thing is, my head is full and not all of it is pretty or pleasant. I could spew paragraph upon paragraph, raging about politicians who have sold out for …what? Blood money? Blackmail? Or are their hearts that hardened, to not care about the people they’re supposed to be representing?
An incompetent fool sits in the White House and tweets whatever strikes him off the top of his head (and Fox “news”), then meets with politicians and refers to other nations at “shithole” countries. The entire Republican party is at fault for making him their candidate, for not reigning him in and controlling his abusive rants. A sizeable portion of the voters in this country are also at fault for voting him and his administration into office. #Cult45 is harming this nation — hopefully not beyond repair but it’s going to be a long climb back to respectability. A misogynist who is a serial sexual harrasser was elected to be President of the United States. He is a compulsive liar and a racist. He was elected by wealthy people who believed he would bring them even more wealth. He was elected by people who felt marginalized and left behind in times of economic growth, who believed it when he said he’d bring the steel and coal jobs back. He was held up by white supremacy folks as being one of their own and he has proven that to be true by his words, actions, and inactions. The KKK and other groups have been emboldened by his presidency. But the group of people who voted for Number 45 and who bother me the most of all are the people who claim to follow Jesus Christ. It makes no sense at all to me as a Christian to support and excuse someone who sees forgiveness, compassion and humility as weakness, who brags about assaulting and using others, who constantly tears down others in an attempt to build himself up. And yet there have been many people who claim to be Christian — and in whose lives I have seen a desire to follow Jesus Christ — who have chosen to vote for and support this man and his administration. I’m told it’s about the judicial branch and abortion. However, I don’t see the ends justifying the means and I don’t know how to relate to people who continue to support him.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall

Who’s the busiest of them all?

Busy! Busy! Busy!

Guilty as charged.

I am trying to set aside some quiet moments this season to reflect on why we celebrate Christmas, why we look for the perfect gift for someone we love. I am trying to be intentional about Advent, this season of preparation. Today we light the “peace” candle on the Advent wreath.

Hope. Peace. Joy. Love.

In the midst of everything happening in our nation and in the world, I need the focus of Advent more than ever. Peace be with you.

Life is precious and wonderful. It can be tedious or exciting. Life, as Glennon Melton Doyle says, is brutal and beautiful… brutiful. But life isn’t sacred. Sacred means holy, set aside, reverently dedicated to some person, purpose, or object. I’m not saying that life can’t be those things, but general everyday life doesn’t qualify as sacred. However, there are moments in one’s life that are sacred. Birth, when a baby takes its first breath, causes those present to catch and hold their own breaths, waiting for that first cry as air fills the infant’s lungs. Death is also one of those sacred moments; being present as someone takes a final breath is a holy experience and a sacred honor – one which I count myself blessed to have witnessed.

My husband and I discussed some of this a few weeks ago as he prepared to undergo an angiogram. We were filling out paperwork for his Advance Directive in the event things went horribly wrong. He didn’t want to have life indefinitely prolonged via medical support if there was no hope of recovery. We did the hard work of discussing how long I should wait for him to come out of a coma or allow him to be on life support, should those things be in our immediate future.

We experienced sacred moments yesterday. It was a beautiful morning: the smoke was finally clearing from our skies. I wanted to visit friends who were camping in a lovely Riverside spot before they left to journey home, so SuperDad and Moses and I drove the short distance to the state park. I walked the first half-mile with them, smiling at how happy our dog was to be sniffing everything. We parted on the bridge; man and beast continued on their favorite hike together while I returned to where my friends were camped. About 30 minutes later, when I was expecting their return to us, SD called to say the dog was having trouble breathing (this was not terribly uncommon and usually righted itself within minutes) so they were resting before moving on. Ten minutes later, a second call let me know that Moses wasn’t recovering well at all, and could I get a cart to meet them? My friend J and I asked the camp host if there was a cart available but she did not have one, so we drove to my house for our folding wagon, quickly returning to the park with it. We met SD and the dog on the trail: Moses had slipped into a coma. We gently moved him to a blanket and lifted him into the cart. The trail back was rocky and uneven, and the decision was made for SD to go retrieve the car while J and I walked with the wagon along a smoother path until we could all meet up. At a stopping point in the shade, J reached down and pet the dog; she noted that his heart was beating quickly. By the time I reached down to feel his chest, Moses’ heart had stopped. There was no trauma, no misery – just a quiet ending. He was having a joy-filled morning, walking on one of his favorite paths in the woods until with a final wag of his tail, he laid down to rest. SuperDad was there to give him water and keep him company. When Moses took his final breath, he had a loving hand placed comfortingly on him.

Death is sacred, and in those important, holy moments of yesterday, there were people to bear witness to it. Aside from the fact that he was a 14-year-old Labrador retriever – that makes him the human equivalent of 98 years of age, so clearly his time had come – I think that is why I am so at peace with his passing: he was ushered out of this life with loving hands. Moses now at the proverbial Rainbow Bridge, where he is free to sniff whatever he wants to his heart’s content. We weren’t his first family, so if the legend is true Moses will have at least two joyous reunions in the future. There are some wonderful dogs I know of who went before him, and I imagine there is quite the dog party happening now.

SuperDad trains all year for his favorite event, the Langlauf 10km Nordic skiing race on Mt. Spokane. In 2016 he took 3rd place in his age group, which only encouraged him to train harder. The extra training he did (some in thanks to Pokémon GO) paid off in yesterday’s race. Congratulations to the first place winner for his age group!

This, of course, begs the question: will 2018 bring him more cowbell?

too cool for sitting around the fire

Winter, however, is far from over. I snapped these two pictures prior to leaving for work on Thursday morning. The school district had to cancel classes and after school activities due to weather. The main roads were okay but we had received a fresh load of snow followed by a layer of ice and freezing rain. It was the first day that The Scout felt up to going to class all week; he learned his lesson about checking his phone for messages after he got the the empty school parking lot.

This is the kind of ICE we like best.

After church yesterday, I headed over to one of the university campuses here in town for a #RallyWithRefugees. The large room was filled to capacity and overflowed to other places where people could watch on screens, thanks to use of Facebook Live. The event had been pulled together with 3 different groups sponsoring it — Whitworth University, Gonzaga University, and the World Relief office — after the immigration fiasco at our nation’s airports. Those who attended were given the big picture of what is happening, the intimate look at what refugees go through to resettle here (the personal stories were eye-opening and inspiring), some details on how local officials are dealing with it here in Spokane, the legalities facing everyone (but especially refugees), and concrete suggestions on how we can help others. The event was worth every minute I spent there.

We had just finished hearing the story of one young woman’s quest for education when a city councilman got up to speak. He was showing his emotions not only because of the personal stories that were being shared but also because he’d just gotten word that ICE was currently doing sweeps downtown and that other city council members were hurrying to the main bus station and train station to question them. Having leadership in our city and state that support humane treatment of others is priceless.

The tactics used by the administration of POTUS45 are fear-based and education-deficient. So let’s combat those two issues (fear and a lack of education) with some information from the World Relief office:

“Under both international and U.S. law, a refugee is an individual who has fled his or her country of origin because of a credible fear of persecution on account of their race, religion, political opinion, national origin, or social group. This definition of a refugee does not include those who flee their homes but stay within the boundaries of their country (“Internally Displaced Persons”) nor does it include those who flee a situation of poverty, national disaster, or violence, unless the violence was specifically motivated by their race, religion, political opinion, or one of the other grounds under the legal definition. The U.S. government admits individuals for resettlement within the United States only after a thorough individual screening abroad to ensure both that they meet the legal definition of a refugee and that they in no way pose a national security or health threat to the United States.”

The current screening process for all refugees involves many layers of security checks before entry into the country. In addition, only the most vulnerable are referred by the U.N. for refugee resettlement (less than 1 percent of refugees worldwide). For more, read this New York Times article. It’s not a rapid scenario — vetting a refugee takes approximately 2 years with multiple background checks, interviews, and approval processes. Syrians go through additional layers of checks. Some people spend years waiting in refugee camps. They don’t have a home to which they can return.

As a person of faith, being concerned with how my country and fellow citizens treat others is not just a matter of personal opinion; the Bible is full of scriptures relating to how I am to respond to refugees and other migrating people, regardless of whether you read the New Testament or the Old Testament/Hebrew Scriptures. Even for those who do not profess faith, the Golden Rule makes is clear how we ought to respond to the crisis of refugees.

It’s a shiny new year and we have the opportunity to bring joy and share hope with others.

Some of the Bible verses I return to over and over again are the ones I am sharing here.

From the prophet Micah in the Old Testament:

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.And what does the Lord require of you?To act justly and to love mercyand to walk humbly with your God.

Micah 6:8 (NIV)

The words of Jesus as recorded by Matthew in the New Testament:

37 “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment.39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

For many reasons, 2016 is a year that can’t end soon enough. Not only was a misogynistic, racist serial liar (just to name a few of his well-documented traits) elected as the next President of the United States, but the world lost some amazing artists as well.

Sometimes it’s hard to see the beauty around us when so much bad stuff is in the news.

But I see the light of hope shining in the efforts of so many people.

The darkness cannot overcome the light.

And even in the unpleasantness, there are moments of beauty to be enjoyed. We only need to be watching for the opportunities that surely await us.